Craving You
by PaperSunflower
Summary: Draco finally acts on his feelings for Ron. Fifth year AU. [SLASH, don't like it, don't read it] AN: I despise this fic, and it is incredibly doubtful that I'll continue it. Sorry to everyone who likes it.
1. Prologue

I'm not sure when I first realized the true nature of my feelings for Ron. Maybe I'd always known, on some level, ever since I first laid eyes on the lanky, red-haired boy. It seems, looking back, that I always knew that I loved him, as much as I tried to deny it. I know that he, for one, had no idea what I was thinking. He couldn't have imagined the things I thought about him, lying awake in my bed at night, staring at the ceiling. He didn't notice when I snuck glances at him during class or during meals, loving every detail of his body. I made sure he didn't know by always making a point of being particularly horrible to him and his friends. I suppose that's just my way; I've always been a little sadistic.

At any rate, the feelings I felt ended up manifesting in a less-than-ideal way. I'm not good with emotions, so I could never come out and just tell him that I loved him. I didn't give in to my urges until our fifth year. By that time I was practically exploding with the need and want for Ron. I wanted him, and I wanted him bad, so - being the Malfoy I am - I took what I wanted (although I admit I held back a bit, for fear or hurting him or scaring him away). And I loved the reaction I got. The quivering of his thin body, the high-pitched whimpers and questioning looks that resulted from my first advance delighted me. I thoroughly enjoyed the confused expression he had on his face every time he looked at me for the next few days afterward, a question held in his wide blue eyes.

I continued in this fashion, confusing and hurting him, but eventually I felt the pressing need for more than that. I didn't want to be his tormentor; not really. I came to realize that what I truly wanted was for him to feel the same passion for me that I felt for him. For his heart to race when he saw me, not because he was afraid, but because he truly wanted me. But by the time I realized this, I had already done so much damage that I wasn't sure it could be fixed...

**Author's Note: **Just an introduction, the good stuff comes later. Review, please! )


	2. Can I Have A Word?

Ron sighed as the double potions class filed out of the dungeon, a surly expression on his freckled face. He dragged his feet, falling to the back of the group of babbling students, reliving his recent humiliation in his mind. It wasn't his fault that his Draught of Peace hadn't turned out right! He seethed, remembering the carefully chosen, biting words the Professor had directed at him, pointing out every fault in Ron's potion. 

"Observe the dark color..." "It should be smoking, not bubbling..."

He scowled, scuffing his foot against the floor. Harry and Hermione had been one of the first students out of the dungeon, and he could no longer pick them out from among the steadily receding herd of Hogwarts scolars. The stone-walled corridor was quickly emptying, leaving him alone with his thoughts.

Or so he thought.

"Oy, Ron. Can I have a word?" A soft voice reached his ears. He whirled, ready to take out his anger on whoever was standing there, and was shocked to find himself looking into a pair of cool gray eyes. Draco Malfoy. Ron stared, his mouth hanging open. Draco, for once, was without his Slytherin posse, and wasn't looking at Ron with his usual sneer. There was a strange look in his eyes, one that Ron had never seen on the Slytherin Prince before then: not contempt or scorn, but something almost friendly. _Why isn't he saying something horrible?_ Ron thought, thoroughly confused. _And... was it my imagination, or did he just call me **Ron**?_ A frown settled onto the Weasley's face as suspicion crept into his chest. He would have left right then if it wasn't for his curiousity: What was Malfoy up to?

Draco grabbed the material of Ron's sleeve, steering him into a small hallway off the main corridor. Ron looked down at the shorter boy, trying to detect something familiar about Malfoy's behavior. He opened his mouth to speak.

"Malfoy, what - ?" He was cut off as Draco pushed him roughly against the wall, his shoulderblades pressing painfully into the hard stone. The Slytherin's pale hands rose to Ron's chest, rubbing against the dark material of his robes. Malfoy's body pressed itself against Ron's as the blonde's fingers danced over the taller boy's collarbone. Draco's cold gray eyes were shining with someting like awe in them, and if Ron wasn't mistaking... _Is he... Is he shaking?_ Indeed, Malfoy's fingers trembled as they caressed the curve of Ron's neck. Ron felt heat rise in his ears, almost ashamed to be seeing such strong emotion in the usually cool boy.

Before Ron could speak, Draco had brought his face up close to Ron's, their mouths so close that both boys could feel the other's breath on their lips. Draco paused, his hands snaking up the the nape of Ron's neck, then brought his lips down to Ron's neck. He brushed them against Ron's skin, just below his ear. Ron's breath caught in his throat.

Then Malfoy roughly pushed himself away from the redhead, and rushed away, his footsteps echoing in the now-empty corridor.

Ron shuddered, his blue eyes closing as he sank to the cold floor. The spot below his ear, where Draco had placed his lips, burned hotter than the rest of his skin. He brought his long, quivering fingers up to touch the skin there, his brain racing with confusing thoughts.

_What... just happened?_ His mind screamed. Was it just another one of Malfoy's cruel jokes? No, the emotion in the Slytherin's eyes... That couldn't have been faked, could it? Then... _What the hell just happened!_ His shocked brain repeated to him. _Why am I quaking like a leaf?_ He drew in a shaking breath, and slumped against the wall as a quiet sob racked his body.

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Draco smiled breathlessly as he left a shocked Ron to stride down the dungeon corridor. He recalled the shape of Ron's body that his fingers had traced, tried to imagine how it looked under the boy's robes. He ducked behind a statue, his breath coming in quiet, ragged puffs.

Draco's being was drenched in desire. _It's a wonder I didn't just rape him right there_, he thought somewhat giddily, picturing the delicious shock in Ron's blue eyes. He hoped to see that expression again, the next time he caught Weasley alone. _I didn't even kiss him_, Draco said to himself thoughtfully. _But why? I could have, he was obviously too surprised to stop me._ He giggled softly, adrenaline still racing through him. _Watch out, Weasley_, he thought, _because next time, I won't hold back._

**Author's Note: **I was a little worried about using third-person for this, but I think it came out okay... And FYI, the AU mentioned in the summary is that Hogwarts is Umbridge-less in the fifth year. Please review! (And thank you to the one person who has reviewed so far. I'm flattered that you liked it. I hope you like this too!)


	3. I Get What I Want

Ron sat quietly at the Gryffindor table during breakfast, his chin resting on his hand, staring into the distance. The plate of food in front of him was virtually untouched. Harry and Hermione kept shooting questioning glances at each other. It was unusual for Ron to be so listless. 

Neither of them guessed what Ron was thinking. What he was reliving in his mind.

The previous day, after his sobs subsided and his salty tears had dried on his face, Ron had gotten up and continued on to his next class. He had tried his best to pretend everything was normal, but kept getting lost in his thoughts, trying to make sense of what Malfoy had done to him. All he had done was touch his chest and kissed his ear. So why was Ron drowning in a sea of confusion and anguish? Maybe it was because it was so out of character for Malfoy to be so... tender. Hell, it was unusual for Malfoy to be civil towards Ron. What did it all mean?

Ron's blue eyes flicked over to the Slytherin table, where Pansy Parkinson was trying to get Malfoy's attention. The blond-haired boy was pointedly ignoring her, systematically taking bites of his breakfast. To Ron's disappointment, Malfoy didn't seem at all preoccupied with what had happened between them.

But Malfoy _was_ thinking about it. _Why does he do this to me, anyway?_ He thought, imagining Ron's face and resisting the urge to glance over towards the other boy. _He's got a long nose, he's not particularly attractive... So why?_ He finished his eggs and set down his fork, gazing at the owls that were now pouring into the Great Hall. The beginnings of anger were rising in his chest. Weasley had no right to make him feel like this. No right. He would take care of these feelings. Next time he had the oppurtuniy, he would act, and, as he had already decided the previous day, he would not hold back. Once he had actually done something about these feelings, they would go away, he was certain. It was just a whim. An impulse. There was nothing _real_ there.

Draco rose, and left the Great Hall, not noticing the blue eyes following him.

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A week went by, with no further advances on Draco's part. Ron had drawn the (mistaken) conclusion that it was a one-time thing, and had resolved to put the incident out of his mind. Hermione and Harry had decided that Ron's sullen mood was due to double potions, and, since he had returned to his normal self, they read no more than that into it. It seemed that things were getting back to normal.

As Ron was walking down the hall after Ancient Runes - a class he didn't share with either Harry or Hermione - he thought he was alone. The hallway was deserted, and the only audible footsteps were Ron's own. He waswondering how he would _ever_ finish the assignment they had been left, when something grabbed onto his shoulder and pushed him unceremoniously into the boys' bathroom. He whirled around, and found himself once again face-to-face with Draco Malfoy's pointed features.

"Malfoy, what the bloody h - " Ron was silenced by Draco's lips over his as the Slytherin kissed him roughly. The redhead's bag dropped to the floor, scattering his books over the white tile. Malfoy shoved him against the wall, pinning Ron's wrists against the wall with his hands. His kisses became deeper, his tongue plunging into the Gryffindor's mouth. Ron moaned softly, even as his mind shrieked _I don't want this!_ He moved his head to the side, trying to avoid Draco's hot kisses, but Draco wasn't put off. He brushed his lips down the curve of Ron's neck, then began biting and sucking the skin of his shoulder. Ron went weak at the knees, leaning against the bathroom wall for support.

"Malfoy... Get off me," Ron spat quickly, before his willpower was completely dissolved by Draco's ministrations. He shoved the blonde back, adjusting the collar of his robes. "What the... What the _hell_ do you think you're doing?" He demanded, his voice shaking. A dark red blush had settled across his freckled cheeks. "I'm not... I'm not _that way_. Where do you think you're getting off, doing this to me every time I'm alone?" His voice grew in confidence now that Draco's hands - and, more importantly, his lips - were no longer on him. The Slytherin's face fell into a frown, then a glare.

"You didn't stop me before," he said, crossing his arms. Ron hesitated at that, but quickly formed an excuse.

"Because you were bloody all over me before I could!" he said loudly, bending over to gather up his books.

_You liked it_, Malfoy thought angrily, as Ron shouldered his bag and strode towards the door. He had _moaned_ whenDraco kissed him. Moaned! The bathroom door swung shut, leaving Draco standing alone in the bathroom. Rage reared its head in his stomach, and he felt his ears grow hot with it.

He flung open the door, running after Ron. Surprisingly, the hallway was still empty. Draco slammed Ron into the wall, grabbing the collar of his robe, his enraged face inches from Ron's nose.

"Do you know who I am, Weasley?" he hissed, "Draco Malfoy." Ron cringed away from the other boy's angry face, squirming slightly. "I always get what I want," Draco spat. The distant sound of voices was drawing nearer. If it had not been for that, Draco probably would have continued what he had started in the bathroom right there in the hallway. Instead, he roughly released Ron's collar, adjusted his own collar,and shot one last glare at Ron before stalking off. A few moments later, a group of giggling Ravenclaw girls turned the corner.

Ron quickly pulled himself together, even managing to smile at the girls. Cold fear coursed down his spine. _I always get what I want..._

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Draco stormed into the Slytherin common room, glaring at anyone who happened to glance his way. Deep down he knew his anger was to hide the hot, swirling rejection he felt. Draco Malfoy didn't get rejected! He fully intended to carry out his promise to Ron as soon as the oppurtunity presented itself, he thought darkly to himself.

**Author's Note:** Thanks for the reviews! I'm ridiculously excited about two reviews... I hope you liked it! Review please! Constructive criticism is welcome.


	4. Never Again

The sky above the quidditch pitch was threatening rain, and was the same shade of gray as Draco Malfoy's eyes. Those eyes were fixed on Ron Weasley, who was hovering near the Gryffindor goal hoops. 

"I don't see why we have to be here," Pansy Parkinson whined, twisting her arm around Draco's and giving him a pathetic look. Draco's expression darkened at her words, his eyes never wavering from Ron's distant form. He hadn't wanted to bring Pansy along, but she had insisted, as usual, on following him like she was his shadow. He hoped that she would be gone by the time he got Weasley on his own, and had the oppurtunity to make good on his threat.

He ignored Pansy's question and continued studying Ron. _He looks so sexy in his Quidditch robes_, he thought dreamily, imagining what it would be like to remove those robes, reveal Weasley's body in full and then... He was jerked out of his daydream by Pansy's hand massaging his upper thigh.

"Pansy, you're such a whore," he snapped, swatting her hand away. She pouted at his side, still clinging to his arm. He stared as Ron deflected the Quaffle, thwarting the Ravenclaw chasers. Ron was having a particularly good match: he wasn't freezing up in front of the crowd, or doing anything stupid. Draco felt oddly proud of Ron, even though he really had no right to be.

Ron, despite how well he was doing, was very nervous. He had spotted Draco sitting in the bleachers, Pansy glued to his side as usual. For some reason, he felt a wave of anger every time he saw the pug-faced Slytherin girl lay a hand on Draco. _No way are you jealous_, he told himself sternly. _You are NOT falling for that Malfoy git_. Even as he thought this, he couldn't deny that the word 'git' was thought half-heartedly, without the usual bite of his insults towards the blond.

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The match ended, with Gryffindor winning by a slim 15 points. Draco watched as the victorious team disappeared into the locker room.

"Draco," Pansy's wheedling voice was buzzing in his ear again like a mosquito. "Can we go now?" Draco sighed.

"Why don't you just go ahead, Pansy? I'll be up in a minute," he made an effort to wink seductively at the petite girl, who laughed in that high-pitched way she always laughed, and left after rubbing her chest against his side. She was _such _a slut.

Draco strode down off the bleachers, and across the playing field, in the direction of the locker rooms. The ominous crackle of far-off thunder split the humid air, and the first half-hearted drops of rain plummeted to the earth. Students began rushing back to the castle, trying to beat the downpour, but, to Malfoy's delight, Ron was not among them. He must still be in the locker room, he thought, licking his lips as he realized how perfect this situation was turning out to be.

Malfoy traipsed into the Gryffindor locker room, which was almost silent, other than the quiet rustling of cloth on skin. Draco's footsteps were quiet, and went undetected by Ron, who was dressing on the other side of the rows of lockers. He rounded the corner, to find the redhead, his shoe propped up on a bench as he tied the laces. The nape of his neck glistened wetly under his soaking hair: he obviously had been in a hurry to get dressed. The front of his robes and his shirt were open, revealing the slick skin of his strong, albeit skinny, chest.

"Ron," Malfoy murmured lustily. The redhead's face snapped up, sky blue eyes staring into Draco's face. He staggered backwards, but found only the cold metal lockers behind him.

"Malfoy..." he began, eyes wide in fear as Draco approached. "Get aw - " he was cut off by Malfoy's kiss, deep and needy on Ron's lips. The Slytherin's hot palms pressed against Ron's chest. Ron struggled and squirmed, trying to break away from Draco's lips, but only succeeded in being pressed more firmly against the locker doors.

He moaned involuntarily against Draco's searching tongue as his nipples were rubbed. His knees went weak again, and he slid to the floor, Malfoy sliding with him. Draco had his hands on the sides of Ron's face, his knee between his legs, when a rattling came from the doorknob. A sound of frustration slipped from Malfoy's lips as a muffled voice said:

"Oy, Ron? You in there?" Draco pushed himself up and away from the Gryffindor, and disappeared around the row of lockers just as Harry burst into the room. He looked around, then down at Ron on the floor. His expression was questioning and confused. "What are you doing down there?" He asked, brow knitting.

"I, uh... I fell," Ron said, flustered and breathing raggedly. He took Harry's hand and hoisted himself up, hoping Harry wouldn't notice the blush on his face, or his slightly swollen lips. Harry glanced at him doubtfully, but made no comment.

"Well, then, get yourself dressed and come on," he said, "It's taking you long enough." Ron laughed half-heartedly, the memory of Malfoy's knee between his legs invading his thoughts. Humiliation came along with it. What was he, a girl? He had just let Draco do it to him! He gritted his teeth as he buttoned up the front of his shirt. No way was he going to let this happen again. _Never again_, he thought, determined, as Harry led him out of the locker room.

**Author's Note**: Ugh, I feel like this chapter is TERRIBLE. But oh well, here it is. PLEASE review, it makes me so happy. There are over 280 hits, but only four comments? How mean! But thank you to those of you who did review, I love you guys!


	5. Fancy Meeting You

Ron stared at Draco over his dinner, his fork hovering in the air before his slightly open mouth. He noted the slight quirk in Malfoy's lips when he laughed, the way his silvery eyes narrowed when he smirked. He told himself he was just gathering information on the enemy, to keep the Slytherin from taking advantage of him again, but really, why would he need to notice that Draco moved slightly away from Pansy every time she pressed against him, or that he had a habit of running his hand through his radiantly blonde hair? His fork jabbed into the side of his face, and he jumped at the contact. Hermione was staring at him from across the table. 

"Ron... are you okay?" She asked, cocking her eyebrow. He blinked at her a moment before stuttering a response.

"Y-yeah. I'm fine. Why?" He said hurriedly, bringing the fork to its intended destination. Hermione stared at him a moment longer before shaking her head and returning her attention to the food on her plate. His eyes flickered up at Malfoy for a moment before he shook himself and looked away. _I'm not gay_, he told himself. _No way. I'm just nervous because he's been molesting me._ He nodded to himself.

"Ron? You coming?" His head jerked up, to find Harry's emerald eyes looking down at him expectantly. He muttered a 'yes,' and stood up to leave the Great Hall with Harry and Hermione.

"Ron... is something the matter?" Harry asked, trying to make the question sound offhand. Ron blinked at him. He couldn't possibly know. Malfoy had left before Harry could see them. His face felt hot as he remembered Malfoy's knee between his legs, his hand on his neck... "Ron!" He yanked himself out of his reverie."You see what I'm talking about? You've been off in your own world lately."

"I... Sorry. I haven't been getting much sleep lately, so..." Ron made an effort to shrug apologetically. Harry gazed at him, doubt clouding his green eyes.

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Draco watched disinterestedly as the other Slytherins filed out of the common room, chattering to one another on their way to Hogsmeade. He had been waiting for this weekend, but not really because of Hogsmeade. He had been anticipating this because it might give him another chance to catch Ron on his own. With most of the Gryffindor house gone, Draco would be able to make his boldest move yet. True, it was unlikely that Ron would have stayed behind, but it had also been unexpected to find Ron on his own in the locker room after that Quidditch game.

When the voices of the Slytherins had receded down the hallway, Malfoy leapt up from the green couch he had been lounging on, and slid past the portrait that served as the entrance to the Slytherin common room. His footsteps echoed slightly in the empty corridor - even the students who were too young to go to Hogsmeade were gone, taking advantage of the unseasonably good weather they were having.

He just hoped that a certain redhead had elected to stay indoors...

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Ron shuffled hurriedly down the passageway, the eerie silence pressing against his ears and putting him on edge. Around every corner he imagined Draco lurking, waiting for his chance... He had planned to go to Hogsmeade with Harry and Hermione, but upon reaching the wizarding town, he had realized that he had forgotten his money in his dorm. Harry had offered to pay for him, but Ron hated taking favors from the Boy Who Lived. It had taken some self-convincing to make himself come back here alone, but, as he had said to himself, he was not a baby and there was no reason for him to be afraid of going into the castle alone. He would just get his money and go back to Hogsmeade. Nothing would happen.

The fat lady was dozing when Ron approached her. He muttered the password, and the portrait swung open without her acknowledging him. He strode across the common room, not noticing the smoky eyes following his movements. He jogged up the stairs to his dorm, and began rummaging around in his trunk, looking for the bag of money he had been saving. The noise masked the sound of Draco's entrance.

"Fancy meeting you here, Ron," Ron stiffened at the sound of the voice, all too familiar, in his ear. He stumbled backwards, scooting against the wall and staring up at Draco's face with wide, fearful eyes.

"How... How did you get in?" He squeaked, hand clutching the drapes behind his back.

"Oh, I... persuaded a first year to give me the password," Draco said smoothly, gazing down at the cowering boy. "What - do you mean you're not happy to see me?" Ron simply whimpered, shivering as Malfoy came closer. The blonde knelt over him, cupping his chin and lifting his face up. Ron felt tears well in his eyes and a knot form in his throat as Draco's lips met his own, pressing hungrily against his mouth. Draco's tongue again slid into Ron's mouth as he straddled his waist. The Slytherin's erection pressed against his stomach, and Ron couldn't deny that his own desire was building as Draco's hand found its place on his chest. He found himself moaning against the blonde's mouth and arching into the other boy's body, even as scorching tears built in his eyes and crawled down his face.

Malfoy's hand slid inside his robes, gliding down his body to his crotch. His pale hand rubbed against the material of Ron's pants, the fingers of its twin twining into his hair. Ron let Draco shove him to the ground, so that he was staring up at Malfoy, who was suspended above him.

Draco drew back, staring down at the object of his desire and drinking in the innocent stare in his blue eyes, the way his shaggy red hair was fanned around his tear-streaked face. His hands worked at the zipper on Ron's pants as he dipped down to catch Ron's lips in his own. Before Ron could protest, his pants were around his knees and the warmth of Draco's hand was curled around his length. He gasped as the hand squeezed, and his eyes fluttered shut in ecstacy. He forgot who it was above him, what he was allowing to be done to him, and lost himself in the pleasure of the moment.

Before long the hand had persuaded him to come, gasping and moaning Draco's name as he thrusted into the other boy's fist. He collapsed, shuddering under the blonde. Draco broke the kiss that had continued throughout his ministrations. Ron found him sneering cruelly, almost mockingly down at him. Draco brought his hand to Ron's cheek and wiped the sticky seed off on Ron's freckled face, and, without a word, rose and left the dorm.

Ron's body curled into a fetal position on the floor. He felt such overwhelming humiliation and defeat that he couldn't bring himself to move, he just lay on the hard wood floor, choking back the sobs tearing at his throat. After several minutes, he forced himself to stand and walk to the dorm bathroom, wash himself off. _How could I let him use me like this?_ he thought miserably as he scrubbed at his face, trying to erase the dirty feeling he had. _How could I let myself believe that I liked Malfoy, even for a second?_ When he returned to the dorm, he slid into bed, forgetting all about Hogsmeade, just replaying what had happened and drowning himself in shame until he drifted into an uneasy sleep.

**Author's Note: **0.0 Ron got raped (sort of)! The first real slash of the story. Well, even though I really don't feel like this is a very good chapter, here it is. Reviews are, as always, loved! It took me a little longer to write this one because I'm writing a different HP fanfic (check it out when I'm done), in case you were wondering.


	6. Do Not Touch Me

Draco stared vacantly across the classroom, the dull drone of Professor Binns' voice reaching his ears but not meaning anything. He chewed on the end of his quill, thinking. _It's strange..._ he thought, drumming his graceful fingers on the surface of his desk. Draco was selfish. He only cared about himself, _his_ needs, what _he_ wanted. So then... why had he left Ron before satisfying his own needs? _Very curious_, he thought, still nibbling at his quill. _Very strange indeed._

Another odd thing was the fact that Ron had said _his _name when he came. _Draco's_ name. Now why would he do that? He obviously hated Malfoy. And wasn't it supposed to be the name of your lover that you shouted? Why hadn't he shouted Granger's name? Or Potter's name? He drew invisible patterns on the desk, still idly wondering...

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That morning, Ron had gotten reluctantly out of bed, feeling dirty and worthless and used. He had considered pretending to be sick, but then he'd have had to go to the hospital wing. All day he had been much quieter than his usual self, with his eyes glazed and a dull expression on his face. When Harry had asked him why he hadn't met up with them in Hogsmeade, he had halfheartedly muttered something about not feeling well. His friends were starting to worry.

When the bell rang, Ron was staring dully out of the window in the Divination classroom. He didn't seem to notice that class had ended until Harry shook his shoulder. "C'mon, Ron. We can't be late - we've got Potions next. Snape'll kill us." Ron's face blanched. He felt nauseous. He couldn't face Malfoy - not after what the Slytherin had done to him. After what Ron allowed him to do. He _couldn't._

"Ron? Seriously, Ron, are you okay? You've been acting funny lately," Harry's concerned face swam before his eyes. He cleared his throat, forcing his panic back down into his chest.

"Uh... Yeh. I'm fine. Just a little sick from the fumes," he waved his hand in the air, pretending to fan away the sickly incense smoke that always hung around Trelawney's classroom. "Let's go, then." Harry looked at him doubtfully as the redhead shrugged his bag over his shoulder and starteddown the ladder leading out of the stuffy, circular room. Maybe he could get safely to Potions without Draco seeing him, Ron thought hopefully.

No such luck.

Malfoy was leaning against the entrance to the classroom, arms and legs crossed, his familiar smirk in place. Crabbe and Goyle stood on either side of him like bodyguards. Ron felt even more ill than before.

"Well, if it isn't Potty and the Weasel," he drawled coldly. Ron's blood ran cold with fear, scenes of the blonde's face above his on the dormroom floor flashing before his eyes. Draco's steely eyes flicked up and down Ron's body, the gesture seeming to say, _I've seen that before, and it's all mine_.

But maybe Ron was reading too much into it.

At any rate, in a moment the look was gone, and Draco was smirking at them in his usual way. Ron found himself shaking, his fists clenched. Harry looked at him, concerned.

"I hate you, Malfoy," Ron said through clenched teeth, his voice even icier than Draco's. Gray eyes widened, and Harry shot a confused look in Ron's direction. Everyone knew that Ron hated Malfoy. _That_ wasn't a surprise - but usually it was shown with witty comebacks and insults. And Ron's voice - it was too... raw. Too emotional. The hallways was dead silent as people stared. The redhead shoved Malfoy aside and huried into the Potions classroom, Harry on his heels.

"Ron.. What was that all about?" Hermione, who had come up behind them and witnessed the outburst, said. Ron sat down at a desk, trying to keep from shaking.

"Nothing... I just don't feel like dealing with that git right now." He felt bad about not telling his friends, but how could he explain why he hadn't fought back? He couldn't even explain it to himself. Harry and Hermione didn't have time to argue with his explanation, because the bell rang and Snape made his usual dramatic entrance. Ron pretended to be extremely interested in the potion Snape was explaining, which you were supposed to douse a part of the body in to repair broken bones. He then pretended to be concentrating very hard on chopping up a dried newt, discouraging anyone from talking to him.

Which was when the worst possible thing - at least in Ron's mind - happened.

Pansy Parkinson, on her way to the student cupboard for some ingredients, knocked into Ron's desk, jostling his cauldron...

And spilling the potion all over Ron's leg.

Unfortunately, Ron wasn't much good at potions. Instead of having no effect at all (as his bones weren't broken), the leg went rigid, snapping up and locking in an outstretched position. Snape was there in an instant.

"My, my," he said in his creepy, breathy voice, "It seems that not only is Mr. Weasley a clumsy oaf, he's also incompetent. The potion is _obviously_ incorrect. Fifteen points from Gryffindor." Ron didn't even bother to argue, just grit his teeth and glared at the floor. "And I don't have a potion to fix that here... Mr. Malfoy! Please escort Mr. Weasley to the hospital wing." Ron turned white as a sheet.

"Professor, can't Harry - " Snape glared menacingly at the redhead.

"I said, Mr. _Malfoy_," he said pointedly. "Five points from Gryffindor for talking back." Then he swept away, black robes billowing behind him. And there was Malfoy, grinning down at Ron in a way that certainly wasn't friendly.

"Come on then, Weasley," he drawled, holding out his hand. "As much as I hate to touch you..." A few Slytherins giggled. Had Ron not been terrified out of his wits, he would have rolled his eyes. Hate to touch him? As if. He shakily and reluctantly took Draco's outstretched hand, and allowed his arm to be pulled over the Slytherin's shoulders. His rigid leg was almost completely useless, so he would need some help walking.

They made their way down the corridor and up a flight of stairs, and Ron was starting to think that Draco wasn't going to do anything to him when he was slammed against the wall. He was off-balance because of his leg, and he had no time to fight back before the shorter boy's lips were crashing into his own, his wrists pinned against the stone behind his back. Malfoy's leg was between his, and he couldn't help but think, _This isn't so bad, _as Draco's tongue slid between his lips and probed his mouth.

Then he remembered what Malfoy had done to him. He roughly shoved the petite boy away from him, glaring as he slumped against the wall.

"Do - not - touch - me," he said dangerously, adjusting his robes. "Who do you think you are?"

"I already answered that question, Ron," Malfoy drawled. Ron winced at the use of his first name. "I'm _Draco Malfoy_." Ron's body was shaking slightly, still stunned and tingling from Malfoy's kiss.

"Why do you keep doing this?" He asked before he could stop himself, in a quiet, vulnerable voice. He shouldn't care _why_, he should just want it to stop! But deep down, he had to admit that he was curious. Albeit frightened. Malfoy looked surprised, and he had to consider a moment before answering.

"That's not important, Weasley," he sneered, stepping forward as his usual cold mask was slipped back on. Ron cringed at their nearness before realizing that he still needed Malfoy's help to walk. He grudgingly allowed Draco to take him up to the hospital wing, wincing every time their bodies bumped against each other.

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**Author's Note: **Ewwww. What a crappy chapter that was. Eh. My heart's not really in this story anymore... I did this for you, my reviewers! Show your gratitude by giving me long, well-thought-out reviews. Or any kind of review at all, really. And read and review my other stories, too! Pwetty pwease? 


	7. Hermione's Confession

The next morning, Ron caught himself doing something very disturbing. He was watching Draco. Not just a passing glance in the corridor, either - no, it was definitely becoming a problem. Since when had he noticed the way Draco walked, slinky and catlike and sensual? Since when had he found his eyes sliding down the Slytherin's back, to rest on his - he could barely allow himself to think it - his ass? 

_No!_ Ron thought in anguish, tearing at his hair. _I'm a bloody poofter! How can this be happening?_ He didn't notice that Hermione was staring blatantly at him from across the table because all his attention was focused on Draco, leaning arrogantly back in his chair and observing the Great Hall as though he owned the place. Ron's face reddened as he noted that Malfoy's legs were spread, and he imagined what was underneath those layers of cloth, between his thighs... _Hold up now, Ron. Just yesterday you were terrified of him, and now you're checking him out?_ a voice of reason asked. It was strange, too. Since he had found the courage to stand up to Malfoy, he felt less like a victim, and more like the Slytherin's equal.

Malfoy, for one, was once again pondering the previous day's events. Ron's question floated back into his head. _Why do you keep doing this to me?_ Why, indeed? He didn't know that himself. He ran a hand through his silvery blonde hair, ruffling it slightly. He had thought that he could get Ron out of his system, but apparently... it hadn't worked. He sighed, glancing over to the Gryffinor table...

And found a pair of blue eyes staring back at him.

Malfoy fitted one of his patented smirks onto his face and flashed it at Ron, whose face colored. The redhead quickly dropped his eyes to the empty plate in front of him. Draco had to supress a girlish giggle. It appeared he wasn't the only one pondering...

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

On the way to dinner that evening, Hermione pulled Ron aside, saying, "Ron... I need to talk to you." He was curious as to what she wanted - he was back to his usual self now, so she couldn't possibly be wanting to interrogate him about that. They were in an empty classroom, which seemed lonely without students in it, and Hermione was staring at the floor. Her arms were crossed and she was tracing circles with her toe. She looked... nervous.

"Ron..." she started, still not meeting his eyes. An uncomfortable silence followed. Ron cleared his throat, trying to get her to continue. Her next words were rushed, tumbling out of her mouth so quickly he could hardly grasp their meaning. "DoyoulikePansyParkinson?" He blinked.

"Wha - _what?_" he said, incredulous. Hermione's brown eyes were now fixed on his own, waiting for an answer. "Bloody... No! Why the hell would you think that?" She relaxed slightly.

"Well, it's just that.. you've been staring at her lately, and I thought..." _Oh shit._ He hadn't been staring at _Pansy_, he'd been staring at _Draco_. But, considering Pansy was always taped to Draco's side, it would be an easy mistake to make... The uncomfortable silence was back.

"Why... Why do you care, anyway, Hermione?" Ron asked carefully, and even before she spoke he knew the answer.

"I... Ron, I..." she swallowed. "I like you." Ron felt his heart sink. She liked him? Hermione? He felt a little sick. Not that she wasn't attractive, but she was so... bookish. And annoying. Definitely annoying. _You just don't like her because she's not Malfoy_, an evil little voice crowed gleefully inside his head. _No I do not!_ he said back, angry at himself. He was _not_ gay. He decided that Hermione did look sort of cute, standing there all red-faced and flustered. She was looking a little ill now, come to think of it... "Sorry, I shouldn't have said anything," she muttered, and tried to push past him. He grabbed her wrist.

"Do you want to go out, then?" The complete lack of hesitation in his voice was unnerving. Hermione smiled slightly.

"Yes... I'd like that..." She hesitated before quickly pecking him on the lips. Her eyes widened as though she couldn't believe her own boldness, then she blushed furiously and hurried past Ron and out of the room. Ron stood there, stunned and numb and very confused.

He tried to pretend that he wasn't comparing that kiss to Dracos'.

He tried even harder to pretend that Dracos' kisses were much better. With Draco it had been... electric. Thrilling. Not to mention it made a certain part of his body very, very hard... With Hermione it was just... contact. Lips on lips.

_No way. There's no way I'm gay, and there's no way I'm lusting after Draco Malfoy_, he thought stubbornly, and strode out of the deserted classroom.

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

Before Ron knew what was happening, he felt a vice-like grip on his upper arm and was slammed into the wall. Again. At this rate, his shoulderblades would be permanently bruised. He found himself staring into the pale, pointed face of Draco Malfoy. His expression was livid, his voice barely contained by clenched teeth.

"How _dare_ you let her touch you," Malfoy said, his tone low and very dangerous. Ron smirked, his expression a perfect copy of the one Draco always wore.

"Since when do you decide who touches me?" Ron said. Despite his insolent words, he was more than a little afraid. Who knew what Malfoy would do in this state? "I don't _belong_ to you, or anything." A muscle in Draco's jaw was working furiously. The Slytherin Seeker tried his best to calm himself down - this wouldn't do, getting all upset. It wasn't the Malfoy way. But... seeing Hermione loop her arm through Ron's, kiss him on the cheek... it had proved too much for him. Draco didn't like to share. He willed his composure back.

"Oh, but you _want_ to belong to me, Weasley," he purred, sidling closer to the redhead. "Don't you?" It wasn't a question. Ron felt himself blush as Draco bumped his leg into Ron's swiftly hardening member. Although he hated to admit it, even to himself, Draco's possessiveness was turning him on. He was suddenly very glad that the Slytherin was good at finding privacy.

Draco lazily tilted his blonde head back, grinning seductively up at Ron, his metallic gray eyes half-closed. Their bodies were pressed fully against each other now, the heat between them undeniable. The Slytherin slowly lifted himself up on his toes, sliding his hand to the nape of Ron's neck and forcing his head down. Their mouths touched, hot and damp. Draco sucked languidly on Ron's lower lip. The taller boy felt himself go weak in the knees.

He abruptly pushed Malfoy back, much to his subconscious' disappointment. He hated the fact that he was blushing scarlet.

"I already told you Malfoy - I want nothing to do with you. _I. Hate. You._ Remember?" He couldn't banish a tiny waver in his voice. A plaintive noise sounded in Draco's throat. This was stupid. They both wanted it, they were so close... And stupid Weasley kept ruining it. He dug his well-manicured nails into Ron's arms, trying very hard not to admit that Ron's words stung.

"I don't care." Malfoy hissed in his ear. "I don't care what you want - it's all about me. Remember?" He paused. "Meet me at midnight in the prefect's bathroom," he gave Ron a look that plainly said, _Or else_. He then released the Gryffindor and rushed down the hall, his pale face flushed slightly. He'd get Ron Weasley yet...

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**A/N:** Wrote this at 1:30am, so it's probably not very good... Ach, I have no self-esteem. I have reviewers instead. Please review it makes meh happeh. It also shows how very _grateful_ you are at how quickly I got this new chapter up, neh? 


	8. Slowly

The stones that made up the bathroom floor were cold against Draco's feet. He flexed his fingers, held them up to his eyes. In front of the dim light of a torch, they were almost transparent - he tried to focus on the bluish veins clustered inside them. He didn't usually notice that kind of thing - it was just a way to distract himself.

_Where the hell is he?_ he seethed, glancing restlessly at the door. His throat was constricting with the humiliated tears that were threatening to fall, as embarrassing as that was. Ron wasn't coming. Of _course_ he wasn't coming - how could Draco have expected him to? It was so shameful, what the Weasley boy was doing to him. Making him weak. He just wanted these feelings to go away, so that he could go back to how things were before. But... at the same time...

His arm lashed out, smashing his hand into a mirror and raining slivers of glass into the sink. He hissed, recoiling. Looking down, he saw the ruby blood trickling across the white hand he had been admiring only moments before. Scintillating fragments stuck out of his flesh, and even though it looked very, very painful, he felt only a slight stinging. It was like the wounds he saw weren't actually his. He could feel that nameless, quiet emotion coming on. It was always like this - the pain and the way his blood looked always seemed to calm him down, to numb his rage. When he shifted his hand it made it look like he had diamonds growing out of his skin, they sparkled in such a pretty way -

"Malfoy! What the hell?!" He looked up numbly, his face emotionless, to see Ron standing by the door, eyes wide. _He actually came_. Draco smiled vaguely.

Ron hurried over to Draco, taking his injured hand in between his own. "Stupid git," he muttered, "You just decide to hurt yourself when I don't have my wand with me - sit _down_." He pushed Malfoy down so that they were sitting side by side on the stone bench next to the swimming-pool-sized bathtub. He reached down with long, delicate fingers, gently plucking bits of glass out of Draco's hand. "Grab me one of those, will you?" he jerked his chin towards the stack of fluffy towels on the Slytherin's other side. Draco complied, handing him one. Ron wound it tightly around Draco's fist to staunch the flow of blood.

Then both of the boys were quiet. Ron was realizing just how surreal this whole thing was. He was tending to Draco's wounds? What the hell was that about? He hadn't even thought about what he was doing - his body just reacted, taking charge. And something about the sight of blood against Draco's pale skin had driven such a panic into him... Still, neither spoke, letting Ron dwell on other things that didn't make sense to him. How had he talked to Malfoy like that, like they were old friends? It was so easy, so effortless. Like talking to Harry.

Things had perceptibly shifted between the two boys, in those few moments. The silence in the bathroom was not uncomfortable, or hostile. Ron didn't feel threatened - Draco didn't feel resentful that someone was taking care of him. In those few moments, during which Malfoy had been too numb to be nasty, and Ron had been too concerned to be wary, a wall had been torn down.

Ron cleared his throat.

"So... uhm... Draco," how strange that the name felt natural on his tongue. "What...What did you want to say to me?"

"I actually don't remember," Draco said, in a soft voice, as though he were afraid of shattering the peace the way he had shattered the mirror. Then they allowed themselves to lapse into quiet, again. Finally, Draco spoke.

"I suppose I should... apologize." He paused. "For my behavior." Those words, a simple sentence, Draco's peace offering. The only thing he could think to say to mend things. He bowed his head, looked at the towel wrapped around his hand, sure that Ron would refuse his apology, get up, and leave. Then he felt a hand on his chin.

Ron lifted Draco's flawless face until those stormcloud eyes met his own. He dipped his head and brushed his lips across Malfoy's, the lightest, feathery touch. A ghost of a kiss. Then he kissed him again, letting their mouths press lightly together. He slowly, tentatively slid his tongue into Draco's mouth, in a way that reminded the blond of a skittish forest creature. And Ron discovered that romance novels didn't always exaggerate, because the taste of Draco's tongue really was sweet.

Ron drew back. Draco looked up at him with half-lidded, silvery eyes, drunk on languid kisses, and breathed, "God, Ron." And then, softly, "Kiss me again." With eyes closed, relishing the feel of Ron's soft, yielding lips against his, Draco decided that this, this slow, tender thing they were sharing - it was as good as, or better than, the fevered kisses he was used to.

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**Author's Note: **Guess who's back! Anyway, I'm liking this story better now that I've taken a break from it, and this isn't going to be the last chapter, either. I hope the change in mood wasn't too abrupt - I was very mellow when I wrote this. And, for my angst-lovers, this is not the end of the anguish, so fear not! Comments would be greatly appreciated - did you like/hate this latest chapter? 


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